


133. Revealing the design

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [133]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	133. Revealing the design

_**Sam Worthington and Ryan[](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/profile)[ **kwanten**](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/) : revealing the design** _   
**players only. takes place a few days after[Sam tells Ryan he's feeling particularly possessive](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/30703.html).**

_warning for deep fisting_

Ryan has never seen so many tattoos before in his life. For the past few days he's been trolling the internet, checking out hundreds of websites in his search for the perfect design. Something open in the center, for obvious reasons. Something stylized but not _too_ intricate, considering that it's going to go right between his ass cheeks, which means holding himself open for hours and having a needle drilling into some very sensitive flesh... Finally, though, he thinks he might have found The One. He purchased the design and printed it out, bold and lovely in black and white. He's nervous as hell, but also jumpy with excitement. When Sam first introduced this idea over dinner the other night, Ryan was shocked, and carefully didn't tell Sam that he thought the suggestion was fucking insane. But the image has been pounding at him ever since, and now he wants it, god. Wants it so damn badly.

"Hey, honey, I'm home," Sam calls out, grinning widely as he closes the door behind him.

"Hey." Ryan puts his book down and goes to greet Sam, his smile just as wide. He tangles his fingers in his lover's hair and kisses him, long and deep. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Sam says, shamelessly grinding against his boy. "Mm. That smells good. What is it?"

"Yellow chicken curry," Ryan tells him, sliding his hands down to cup Sam's ass. "It can simmer longer, though. Can you wait a few minutes before we eat?" He doesn't want to lose his nerve.

Sam nods. "Yeah, of course," he grins, sliding his hands up under Ryan's shirt and kissing him harder.

Ryan moans, melting into Sam's touch. Of course - for once - this actually wasn't what he had in mind... He forces himself to pull back from the kiss. "Wait," he says breathlessly, and licks his lips. "I want to show you something." He disentangles himself and heads for his laptop and the picture he has waiting there.

Sam follows, wondering what could possibly be more important than him fucking the hell out of Ryan.

Picking up the paper, Ryan holds onto it for a moment. Fuck, he's nervous. What if Sam doesn't like it? He takes a breath and hands [the tribal sunburst design](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v227/sally_simpson/Ryan/sunburst2.jpg) to his lover.

"Is this for--?" Sam asks, but of course it is. He takes a good long look at the paper, all breath suddenly going out of him. Blood rushing straight to his groin, imagining the tattoo when complete. "I love it," he says, looking up from the design and smiling at Ryan. "It's perfect."

"Yeah? You don't think it's too... anything?" Ryan asks, brightening.

"Too what? It's bold, it's solid, I can picture exactly how it'll look," Sam says. "It's fucking gorgeous."

"Okay." Ryan chews on his bottom lip, a shy smile peeking through. He takes the picture out of Sam's hand and puts it back down, then slips his arms around his lover's waist. "I guess I should send it to Dan, so he can approve it."

"Yeah, you should," Sam nods, kissing a slow path along Ryan's jaw. "He said he could make it up next weekend if you're ready."

"Okay," Ryan whispers again, tilting his head to the side and baring his throat. He curls his fingers into Sam's shirt, pressing close against him. "I'm ready." Fuck, is he ready.

"Are you?" Sam murmurs, one hand slipping between them, working open Ryan's jeans, before both hands slip down the back, spreading his ass cheeks and delving between. Stroking over his slicked hole.

Ryan whimpers and pushes back into the touch, trying to catch Sam's fingers and work them inside. "When it's healed, you'll take me to the club?" he asks breathlessly, already knowing what the answer will be. "Make me crawl behind you while you've got a leash attached to my P.A.?" God, everyone who saw them would know that Ryan was so fucking _owned_.

"Attached to your cock _and_ your nipples," Sam promises, pushing the tips of two fingers on each hand just into Ryan's hole. "And then I'll put you in the center of the room, beside me, your face to the floor, pressed to my boot, while I have a pint or two, your ass in the air for everyone to see."

"Yes," Ryan gasps, in response as much to the touch as to the wicked image Sam's words create. He moans and begins to lick hungrily at his lover's throat. "Please," he begs, letting his nails dig into Sam's back. "Please fuck me."

Sam pushes his fingers deeper, stretching Ryan open as he fucks him, thrusting into his hot hole again and again. "Just think what it'll look like when I'm fisting you..." he murmurs, twisting to nip at Ryan's jaw.

"Oh, god. Oh god oh god." It feels so damn good, but it's still such a fucking tease. "Please, Sir!" Ryan begs, dropping his hands to Sam's ass and pressing him tighter against himself. "Please, more!"

"Stay right there," Sam says, pulling his fingers from Ryan's ass and himself from his lover's embrace. "Take your jeans off."

Ryan immediately obeys but he's shocked when his lover leaves the room. _Fuck_. A shudder of need works its way through his body and he clenches his fists at his sides, telling himself to be patient.

Sam comes back with a tub of lube and drags the ottoman from in front of the couch over to where Ryan's standing. He's got his t-shirt sleeves rolled up onto his shoulders and he's already washed his hands and arms thoroughly. "Spread your legs, boy," he orders, taking a seat on the ottoman, his face level with his lover's cock.

 _Oh, god_. Ryan does so, feeling shaky already. He avidly watches Sam's preparations, taking in every detail. Fuck, he loves this man.

His hand and arm and bicep thickly lubed, Sam pushes two fingers into his lover's hole, instantly twisting deep. "You think you're gonna fall, you grab onto me. My hair, my shoulder. But otherwise I want you fucking standing."

All Ryan can get out in response is a choked whimper. Fuck, it's pretty much a given that he's going to fall. Sam is going to dissolve him from the knees down, and white out Ryan's brain while he's at it. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, fisting his hands at his sides. For now.

Three fingers and Sam pushes in still harder, grinding his fingers into Ryan's hole, his elbow cradled in his other palm, the lube getting all over him. He could care the fuck less though, every single fibre of his being concentrated on his boy.

God, as often as Ryan practices fisting himself, the mechanics of stuffing his fingers inside his ass still never compares to the emotional wallop of Sam fucking taking him over. He spreads his thighs a little wider, his breathing coming fast and shallow now. And he's watching Sam, god. Soaking up the intensity in his lover's eyes.

"Oh fuck, look at that," Sam breathes, Ryan's hole opening up and taking four fingers in no time flat. "You've been a good boy, haven't you? Working on opening your hole for me."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan whispers, and licks his lips. Then he nods. "It's your hole."

"Damn right it is," Sam says, adding more lube to his hand before tucking his thumb into his palm and pushing still deeper. "And soon we're gonna have it marked, so everyone'll know."

Ryan tries to answer, tries to agree, but all that comes out is a whimper. He tips his head back and simply _feels_ Sam penetrating him, coming up on the widest part of his hand and pushing past the resistance of Ryan's body. "Yes, Sir," he whispers. "Yes, Sir. Please."

Pushing steadily, Sam groans as he suddenly sinks in to the wrist, the soft tight heat of Ryan's body making his head swim and his cock throb.

Crying out, Ryan clenches his hands tighter. _Fuck_. He feels so impossibly full, but he's pretty sure it's nothing compared to what Sam's got planned for him tonight. Carefully he bears down, trying to work his lover a little deeper.

"There you go," Sam says, making sure he's got his elbow well-braced. "Good boy. Go ahead. You do it. Take your time but I want you to take as much as you can."

God yes. Ryan blows out a breath, then slowly and carefully inhales again. He concentrates on trying to relax his muscles, visualizes Sam sliding deeper. How much can he take? Before his body revolts, before his legs completely give out... before he loses his mind.

Sam watches as his arm slides deeper into Ryan's hot hole, the muscle stretching around him. "Good boy," he praises, reaching under to stroke around that already-taut skin.

Ryan cries out, pleasure shocking through him and his hole clamping down in an instant. And he realizes this is the first time Sam has fisted him since he got his cock piercing; how much is that going to intensify things? Slowly he relaxes once more, trying to ignore the sparks shooting through his prick.

Fuck. Sam's cock throbs almost violently. Ryan's got half his forearm. It's good but it's nowhere near as much as he knows his lover can take. "Keep going," he orders. "I want to see you take my elbow yourself," he says, shifting position to make it easier.

"Yes, Sir," Ryan whispers, barely managing to get the words out. His head is swimming, and he drops forward just a bit to lay a hand on Sam's shoulder. The motion opens him up even more and he moans, moving down on his lover's arm.

"You are such a fucking slut for it, aren't you?" Sam says, the awe in his voice making clear it's a compliment.

Ryan whimpers, a helpless sound. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, and he can feel his face flaming. God, he is. He's a damn puppet for Sam. He bears down, groaning at the sudden drag to his prostate.

"There you go. So close," Sam murmurs, moving his fingers inside Ryan, everything so hot and soft and _fuck_. "Take my elbow and I'll give you my hand. Let you come."

"Want..." Ryan gasps, and swallows hard around the lump in his throat. "Want more." His fingers dig into Sam's shoulder, and he rocks his hips slightly, beginning to fuck himself.

"Did I say I was gonna stop?" Sam grins.

 _Oh. Fuck._ A shudder works its way through Ryan's body. Time has slowed down until he can nearly feel each crystalline second flow by, like pearls on a string. He braces himself with both hands on Sam's shoulders now, working to simply remain upright, to breathe. Taking Sam a fraction deeper.

"You're so close," Sam tells him, pushing just that little bit deeper, Ryan's body opening and slipping over his elbow. Christ. He knows how much that hurts and he leans in, licking the drop of precome from Ryan's cock, from the metal ring through the head, tongue teasing around the base of it.

Ryan shouts, his fingers curling in Sam's t-shirt. His brain is so fucking confused right now, signals of agony and intense pleasure competing for top place. He moans, rocking on Sam's arm, shivering and pushing the head of his cock against his lover's lips.

"You want to come, boy?" Sam says, licking into the slit. "You want to fucking paint my face with it?" Twisting his arm a little deeper as he nudges Ryan's cock upwards, his face right under it.

The words knot Ryan up tight in a second. He's never before come on Sam's face, never... Suddenly Sam's elbow - god, his _elbow_ \- rakes over Ryan's prostate and Ryan screams, exploding hot onto his lover's face, splashing onto his lips, cheeks, eyelashes.

Oh fuck. Sam groans roughly, his cock jerking and throbbing, pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans. Ryan's come dripping down his face, into his mouth, onto his t-shirt.

Ryan gasps, managing to open his eyes and stare down at his lover. "Oh, god," he whispers. "Oh, god, Sir..."

"We're not done yet, boy," Sam says. "Hold still," he warns him, slowly, very very fucking slowly easing himself to the floor, his arm still mostly straight, inside Ryan's ass. "Now you can show me just how fucking bendy you are."

Nearly staggering a step, Ryan leans forward, his thighs stretching as he works to keep steady. Sam shifts deeper inside him and he moans, hitching his hips, slowly and then faster. Keening at how over-sensitized he is, how overwhelmed. How desperate to have his sir take him even deeper.

When Ryan almost has his thighs parallel to the floor, Sam shifts a little again. "Push back up," he says, moving onto his knees, his arm moving deeper, at the point where they stopped in the shower that time. "You want to take my bicep?" he asks.

"Yes, Sir," Ryan gasps. "Please." He's barely in control of himself anymore, trying with everything he has to obey Sam but unable to stop himself from rocking. "Oh god oh god oh god..."

Carefully, Sam moves deeper. He can handle Ryan's rocking but he can't handle any sudden moves and so he keeps his other hand firmly on his boy's hip, holding him in place while he pushes his shoulder inside him.

Ryan's fingernails are surely leaving indentations in Sam's skin, even through his shirt. He breathes quickly, nearly hyper-ventilating. "S-- Sir," he stammers. Fuck, he thinks he might come again. He can't stop it.

"First, I want you to look over your shoulder," Sam says, as deep in as he can go, wishing they had this on video, watching their reflection in the windows behind Ryan. "And then you can come."

The orders take a long time to filter through Ryan's haze, even that magic word 'come.' Shaky, he carefully turns his head. And what he sees fucking astounds him. Sam is impossibly deep inside his body, far deeper than he'd realized or he even thought possible. And then he _is_ coming, semen pulsing from him in a long slow stream, and blackness rushes up to swallow him. "Sir..."

Sam wraps his free arm around Ryan's hips, pinning him against his body, Ryan's body weight almost too much for him to handle. Christ. That'll fucking teach him. "Ryan? You okay?" he asks, thinking he can probably hold him for another minute before he's going to have to pull out and hopefully get him down with injuring either of them.

Ryan just whimpers. He can barely stay on his feet anymore.

"Hold on for me," Sam says, easing as quickly as he can from Ryan's body and pulling his lover to join him on the floor, between his legs, held close, his arms around him. "There you go." Fuck. "So good for me."

With a moan Ryan all but collapses onto his lover. He rubs his lips against Sam's neck, clinging tight to him. His hole is aching, open and wet.

"You took my whole fucking arm," Sam tells him proudly. "I was so far up inside you..." Kissing him again and again, one hand slipping down to feel between his cheeks, feel that gape, that openness while it's still there.

Ryan wants. He wants Sam to fuck him, wants his sir's cock owning him, wants to hear his lover shout out his pleasure... He slips slowly to the floor, damn near unconscious.

Fuck. Sam shifts and reaches for a throw, pulling it from the end of the couch. He stretches it out over Ryan and tightens his arms around him, grateful for the warm thick rug beneath, waiting for his lover to come back to him. And hoping like hell the curry won't burn in the meantime.  



End file.
